He Is Not a Toy
by Gemini Artemis
Summary: Have you ever wondered why Valmont became a criminal? A childhood trauma? Family business? Bad influence from his friends? All wrong. Here is the true story.


Disclaimer: Except for the plot and the characters that I created, nothing here is mine. 

This fic is dedicated to all the royal guards in England. They're so cool but have such a tough job! The tourists don't make things any better for them, especially in the summer. I bet they hate tourists... Even so, this is an attempt at a humour fic, not a serious one. 

**HE IS NOT A TOY**

It was July, summer in England. It was very hot in London and 99% of its inhabitants had mysteriously disappeared. They probably fled to some other country in Europe, USA, Japan, Brazil or Australia. But there were still a lot of people around. Yes, tourists from every corner of the world came to London. 

They did not care if it was too hot or raining, they always would look for the famous points and take lots and lots of pictures. They could not be humans! They went out wearing jackets and long-sleeved black shirts and did not die! 

The remaining English were not any different... The tour guides, guards, policemen and businessmen were forced to wear clothes that must be really uncomfortable in the summer. One English man, however, was happy for that. His name was Valmont. He had just been "promoted" and soon would be an official royal guard. He had to cut his long white hair, but that was a little price to serve the royal family. 

"Oh, I can't believe I will be a royal guard! I'm so excited!" he commented to John, his American friend. Valmont was looking through the window of his flat while John was sitting in the sofa, changing the channels of the TV and looking bored. 

"Man, your TV shows suck..." he muttered turning off the television and glancing at the British. "What's so good in being a royal guard, anyway?" 

Valmont turned to look at him. "Can't you see how magnificent that is? You have to be the best of the best. Serving the queen of our glorious and traditional kingdom is such a great honour!" 

"I think you look stupid," John remarked, making Valmont frown and snort. 

"You Americans never had a king. You can't understand us," 

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Look, this place is boring and you are boring, so why don't you take me to somewhere interesting like the Big Ben?" John asked standing up. Valmont sighed and opened the door. 

"All right, let's go by car," he said leaving his flat. 

They got to Valmont's car and John was the first to get in... using the right door. He frowned when he saw the steering wheel right in front of him. 

"Something is wrong..." he murmured clearly confused and Valmont raised a brow. 

"In England, the wheel is on the right side," he reminded me and John blinked. 

"Oh..." he said shortly and went to the left seat so that Valmont could sit on the right seat and drive. 

He watched how the white-haired man drove the car on the left side of the street and shook his head. "What's wrong with you? You're on the wrong side! That's dangerous!" 

"No, I'm not on the wrong side. In England, the right side is the left side, and the right side is the wrong side. That's why the wheel is on the right side. Got it?" Valmont explained. 

"Uh... No." 

Valmont rolled his eyes. "Ah, never mind!" 

-=-=-=-=-=-

Today was _the_ day. He was finally free of his American guest it was his first day in the band for the change of the guarding. First, there was the inspection. One of his superiors would check if everything was perfect. 

Valmont guessed it was about ten in the morning, and it was already very hot. Just to make things worse, he had to wear all that "guard outfit", including the big black hat. And he could not move at all unless he was ordered to. 

He noticed a group of about forty persons not far away from where he was. All of them were looking anxiously and excitedly at him and the other men, and most had cameras. Some could not see the guards and were climbing on the wall. Valmont wanted to smirk. Those people were so pathetic... 

The inspection was finally over and one of his superiors began to shout as if everybody there was deaf. The guards just moved a bit and that was enough to make the tourists even more excited and take pictures insanely. 

The band behind him started to play a song and they marched towards the street. After half a minute on it, they had to turn right and only then Valmont realised the huge crowd that was there just to watch them. There were hundreds of people, and they did not stop taking pictures. 

_All those people are here just to see us?! What do they think we are? Some kind of circus artists?_ he though angry. 

He was even more impressed when they got to the Buckingham Palace. It looked like the whole world was there, and they were getting so out of control that the police was required to save the band from being eaten alive. 

He could have felt a bit better during the ceremony if it were not so hot. He had been wearing those clothes and standing still for almost two hours now, and the restless tourists were still taking photos and filming them. And to think of that he would have to do this same thing everyday! 

_It's hot... Why don't those men stop walking around the path and put an end to this torture at once?!_

It was exactly midday. The temperature was probably over 30°C, which made him feel like he was melting. 

_Damn heat! Damn delay! Damn tourists! Damn clothes! Damn band!_

His pressure was lowering. His sight began to blur as he felt more and more tired. 

_Will I really have to do it everyday for years...?!_

He lost his balance and fell on the guard on his right side. That guard also lost his balance and fell on the next guard, who fell on the next guard, and so on, until almost all the men were fallen in the ground. 

Valmont got up on his knees and shook his head, pressing his right hand on his temple. He could hear the tourists going nuts and taking photos beyond belief, and also gasps from few sane people. 

A shadow covered him, and he looked up at the person who was in front of him. The sight was not pleasant at all... The general was glaring homicidally at him, his left eyebrow twitching. Valmont sweat-dropped and smiled nervously. 

-=-=-=-=-=-

_I can't believe I did that... in only one day..._ Valmont whined mentally. Fortunately, he had not been fired, but was forced to guard the Tower of London. At least there he would not ruin the ceremony. 

But that was the only good part. He still had to wear those uncomfortable clothes and stand still for hours in the heat of midday, with a lot of tourists surrounding him. And this time, there was not anybody to keep them away. He was at the mercy of all those crazy people. 

He noticed a group of twenty tourists approaching, and gulped. 

_No, please, I'm too young to die..._

"Look, mom! A soldier!" a ten-years-old boy shouted cheerfully, pointing at the poor British. They immediately ran towards him, making him slightly widen his eyes. "Yay! I like soldiers!" the boy said while posing for his mother to take a photo. After him, two hysterical teenagers held his arms – one on each side. Then it was a couple. The photographic torture lasted for half an hour, and after that he let out a sigh of relief. 

But he was not going to have peace any soon. Three young men approached him, looking at him curiously. Valmont was glad that they were not holding a camera. That meant they would not bother him for too long. 

"Olha só, é um daqueles famosos soldadinhos," one of the men said. Valmont frowned slightly. Tourists that spoke a language he could not understand? That was not good... 

"Parece um brinquedo, né?" the other man asked looking up and down at Valmont, and his two companions nodded in amusement. 

"Eu soube que eles nunca se mexem, não importa o que aconteça ao redor deles," the third man said and the other two looked a bit incredulously at him. 

"Sério?" they asked at the same time and smirked. 

"Não pode ser. Mesmo que a gente incomode ele?" one of them asked and the third man shrugged. 

"Não sei." 

They slowly looked at Valmont again as if they had just had an idea. That made cold shivers go down his spine. What were those strange men up to? One of them came closer and poked his arm. 

"Hey, c'mon, say something," he said with an awkward accent and punched Valmont's arm. "Hello!" 

Valmont felt a vein pulsing on his forehead, but had to keep his self-control. Soon the men would go away, he just had to hold on a bit more. 

The men looked disappointed. 

"Será que ele vai se mexer se nós acertamos o ponto fraco dele?" one of them asked and the others looked pleased. 

"Boa idéia!" Two backed away while the other came closer to Valmont and took what seemed to be a fighting position. 

_Wait, wait... What is he going to do?_ Valmont wondered in worry and in the following moment the man kicked him in groin. An immense pain made him want to scream as loud as he could, but he managed to stand still as if nothing had happened. The other two men flinched. 

"Cara, isso deve doer. Não é possível que ele resista a isso!" 

After some seconds, the trio finally gave up and went away. 

"Ah, que chato..." they muttered. Valmont took a look at his surroundings and allowed himself to fall to the ground since nobody was around. He avoided screaming, though. Instead, he quietly gasped while shivering helplessly in the ground and cursing the crazy men. After some minutes, he was feeling a bit better and found he should get up as soon as possible before someone saw him in this pitiful condition. 

He quickly did so and was back to his original position. He moaned in desperation when a middle-aged couple walked towards him. At least they did not look dangerous or too insane. In fact, they looked very nice and peaceful. 

"Vedi, Maria. Un soldato inglese," the man said. They glanced at each other and the man took his camera while the woman stood beside Valmont. She did not even touch him, and that was not so bad. 

Until the man pressed the button of the camera, that is. Valmont saw very strong light and for moment he thought he had got blind. 

"Perché lei ha usato il flash?" the woman asked. 

"Non so... Questa macchina fotografica è strana..." the man replied and the couple went away, leaving a blind Valmont alone again. When he got his sight back, he saw two young women in front of him. 

"He's so cute! Aww, I wanna hug him!" one of the girls said with an American accent. 

"Oh, I brought some good stuff from Australia, he will get even cuter," her friend said searching for something in her bag. She drew a flower necklace and handed it to the American, who put it on him. 

Then, the Australian took one bag with glitters and one with confetti. The American took them on her hands and spread the glitters and confetti on his hat. 

"Aww!" they said at the same time. 

_Calm down, Valmont. Hold on... Just ignore them..._ he thought to himself. 

As if the two girls had not had enough, the Australian kept looking for something in her bag. This time, she found a pink bowtie. The American made him wear it as well and then they sounded happy to see that there was also a purple band, which they used to make a ribbon and tie it to his hat. 

"So adorable..." the American commented. 

"And now... the finishing touch!" the Australian stated taking a teddy bear. They managed to place it on Valmont's left shoulder, and stepped back to watch him. 

"Aww!" they said at the same time again, making his right eye twitch in a suppressed exasperation. Before he even realized, the Australian took a picture of her friend beside him. Then they ran off. 

Valmont was about to suffer a mental breakdown. When he thought that things could not get worse, a huge group of tourists arrived and immediately noticed his odd decoration. Needless to say that they loved it and laughed a lot while took many and many photos. 

"I'll post it on my website. The world has to see that!" a man said. 

That was the last straw. 

"Oh no, you don't!" Valmont shouted, feeling all his accumulated anger explode inside himself, making him resort to a radical and violent attitude. As in slow motion, the innocent group of tourists watched how the English guard ran furiously towards the poor man. Some people even wondered if he was really supposed to be moving, but their thoughts were interrupted by a war shout and by a horror shout. Valmont had just reached the photographer and looked prepared to kill him. 

"Gah! Help me! He has gone mad!" the man pleaded while trying to escape from the enraged guard, who not just punched and kicked him, but also tried to snatch the camera to destroy it – and it was hanging on the man's neck. 

Surprised with what was happening, the tourists did the most sensible and obvious thing they could... and took lots of photos. 

It did not take too long until that little fight attracted the attention of a guard, who called the asylum and for help from his companions. However, before the help came or that he could do anything, Valmont managed to snatch the camera and with all his strength, not afraid of being happy, he squashed it against the ground and then stomped on it several times. 

At last, due to the amazing competence and speed of the English police, they came right on time to stop Valmont from setting fire to the Tower of London with all the tourists inside, and he was quickly contained. Of course, an "accidental" blow to his head helped a lot and made everything much easier. 

-=-=-=-=-=-

Valmont slowly opened his eyes. His head ached and he felt a bit dizzy and confused. The first plausible image he identified in front of him was one of his superiors, and he did not look happy at all. 

Gradually, his memory of what had happened before he passed out was returning. He turned pale and gulped while looked at his superior. 

"Now listen here, I have only one question," the angry man said harshly. "Who said that you could have moved?" 

Eyes twitched, furious shuddering, violent death attack. Valmont had never felt better. 

And then, knowing where this was going, he ran away as fast as he could. Obviously, the other soldiers went after him. They ended up in the Heathrow Airport, and Valmont quickly entered a random airplane. The soldiers entered it as well and began to look for him everywhere, even in the boots and under the seats. They had no idea that the ex-guard had already left the airplane. Unfortunately, before they realised that, the airplane was moving. It was going to fly at any moment now. All the doors were closed and they did not have time to get to the pilot and demand him to stop. It took flight and the guards were sent to Pakistan. 

Meanwhile, Valmont knew that he could no longer stay in England. He glanced around and an airport vehicle with passengers' luggage, a divine light reaching it. He ran to it, dove in the luggage and really hoped he would not end up in Pakistan as well. 

The man who was driving the vehicle stopped and Valmont could hear him and few others putting the suitcases in the airplane. He took advantage of their distraction to jump in the cargo compartment without anyone noticing. 

After a long trip, the airplane landed and the compartment was opened. He was free. The two men in front of him were surprised for seeing a person in a place like that, but could not ask him anything because he ran away again. 

Valmont quickly realised. He was in San Francisco, USA. Here he could start a new and different life. And he already had an evil plan. He would become rich and powerful so that someday he would decimate all the tourists in the world, no matter what he would have to do. 

"Muhahahahahahahahaha! Just wait, you bloody tourists! I shall rule the world and destroy all of you!" he shouted in victory, and when opened his eyes saw that everybody around him was staring oddly at him. He cleared his throat and moved away from the crowd. He looked down at his clothes and noted that he was still wearing that royal guard outfit. "Um... But first, I think I should take care of some basic things..." he sighed. 

He was a video shop, and it was running an Al Pacino movie, which attracted his attention. He entered it and watched about two minutes of the movie in interest. Then he smiled. Yes, mafia was a good way to get very rich. 

"That's it, I'll create my own criminal organisation!" he decided and frowned "Hmm, I've got the feeling that someone once told me something about me becoming a criminal mastermind in the future, but I can't remember it very well now... Oh, never mind." 

And he watched many mafia movies to learn how to become a criminal. 

**THE END**

The three men spoke Portuguese and the middle-aged couple spoke Italian. In case you are interested, here are the translations: 

Olha só, é um daqueles famosos soldadinhos. = Look, it's one of those famous soldiers. 

Parece um brinquedo, né? = He looks like a toy, doesn't he? 

Eu soube que eles nunca se mexem, não importa o que aconteça ao redor deles. = It's said that they never move, no matter what's going on around them. 

Sério? = Really? 

Não pode ser. Mesmo que a gente incomode ele? = No way. Even if we bother him? 

Não sei. = I don't know. 

Será que ele vai se mexer se nós acertamos o ponto fraco dele? = I wonder if he'll move if we hit his weak point. 

Boa idéia! = Good idea! 

Cara, isso deve doer. Não é possível que ele resista a isso! = Man, that must hurt. It's not possible that he can withstand that! 

Ah, que chato... = Ah, how boring... 

Vedi, Maria. Un soldato inglese. = Look, Maria. An English soldier. 

Perché lei ha usato il flash? = Why did you use the flash? 

Non so... Questa macchina fotografica è strana... = I don't know... This camera is strange...


End file.
